


shoot the messenger (at your peril)

by obstinateRixatrix



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (for the first chapter), Image-Based, M/M, listen., please trust me. when have I ever let you down., this is gen with subtext if you want it but listen.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 19:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14385216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstinateRixatrix/pseuds/obstinateRixatrix
Summary: Yusuke refuses to let Ryuji play the martyr.[Rewrite of Ryuji's 8th rank]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! my sister [malkytop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalkyTop/pseuds/MalkyTop) helped me with the text segment since my laptop died two weeks ago. I cleaned it up on paint, but it's 90% her work using all the fic assets I backed up so thanks sis
> 
> to mobile readers: [this link](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/308563375250604033/437206446921351169/rank_8.png) read pretty well on my phone, hopefully it'll work for yours.
> 
> transcript at the bottom!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was saved on my phone as 'yusuke strong-arms himself into ryuji's rank 8':
> 
> R: Yo, I gotta take a rain check on dinner.  
> Got something after school tomorrow.
> 
> Y: What a pity, I was looking forward to treating you for a change.  
> Is everything all right?
> 
> R: Yeah, everything’s fine.  
> I just got stuff to take care of.
> 
> Y: Are you in need of assistance?
> 
> R: No, it’s fine, I can handle it.
> 
> Y: ...  
> What exactly do you need to ‘handle’?
> 
> R: Nothing!  
> It’s just stuff I gotta take care of.
> 
> Y: You’re being evasive.
> 
> R: Ok.  
> Listen, it’s not a big deal, but I’m meeting up with some guys from the track team.
> 
> Y: From what I know of your relationship with the track team, this seems like a rather significant deal.  
> You’re not planning to confront them alone, are you?
> 
> R: I’m not confronting anyone!  
> It’s not a confrontation.  
> Or like, it kind of is, but it’s not gonna be dramatic or anything.
> 
> Y: Ryuji.  
> I would advise you not to underestimate your capacity for attracting trouble.
> 
> R: Shut it!  
> Look, it’s fine, I’ll ask Akira to come with.
> 
> Y: I have it on good authority that our leader has plans tomorrow.
> 
> R: Ugh, seriously?
> 
> Y: He has a doctor’s appointment.  
> Futaba was rather sour.
> 
> R: What?
> 
> Y: She has one too.  
> It’s for their yearly physical examination.
> 
> R: Oh.  
> Well, that’s just great.
> 
> Y: I’ll go.
> 
> R: Huh?  
> You seriously don’t have to!
> 
> Y: If not Akira, who else would you take with you?
> 
> R: ...  
> I hate to admit it, but you’ve got a point.  
> I mean, Morgana’s a cat.  
> Plus I don’t want to drag any of the girls into this.
> 
> Y: Given the chance, I’m certain any one of them would involve themselves with your not-a-confrontation.  
> Makoto in particular.
> 
> R: Don’t tell her!
> 
> Y: I won’t.  
> Take me with you.  
> I insist.
> 
> R: And if I don’t?
> 
> Y: I’ll worry.
> 
> R: Fine.  
> Just, be cool about it, alright?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks liz & sine for the once-over!

“So like, all I’m here to do is pass on a message,” Ryuji explains. “Takeishi’s been givin’ someone a hard time because of this huge misunderstanding— he’s bein’ used by a shitty adult. I’m just gonna play a recording and leave it up to them.”

“The wonders of modern technology facilitate all manner of interpersonal communication,” Yusuke says. “Why not send the file? It would be much less of a hassle.”

“This is the kinda thing that needs to happen face-to-face,” Ryuji argues, stubborn as always. “Be cool about it, alright? I’m not expecting trouble, I just... might need some back up.”

It isn’t merely that Ryuji underestimates his capacity for attracting trouble; past experience has made it abundantly clear that his definition of ‘trouble’ is never adequately applied in relation to himself. Were the roles reversed, Ryuji would most certainly raise concerns, fuss over adequate precautions, and so on. In that respect, Ryuji could use more self-awareness.

Before Yusuke can voice any of these thoughts, a student walks up to them, clearly irate.

“What do you want, Sakamoto?” After that pleasant greeting, he gives Yusuke a quick once-over. “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t mind me,” Yusuke says. “I’m simply here to keep an eye on my friend.”

“Yeah? And what exactly—“

“Takeishi?”

“Nakaoka!?” The student— Takeishi— balks, clearly taken aback as yet another student joins their group. “Wh-what the hell? Are you guys gonna gang up on me?”

“Dude, chill,” Ryuji says. “I just wanna talk.” For someone so prone to thoughtlessly instigating conflict, he’s quite competent at deescalation. “Listen, you guys gotta know what’s really goin’ on with the track team.”

Ryuji plays his recording.

It’s the first time Yusuke hears the entire situation in full. The teacher— Yamauchi— is almost cartoonishly malicious in an unfortunately familiar way. Weaseling a profit from the misfortune of others, culling those that would challenge his authority, claiming credit for work he takes no part in— all the while capitalizing on the projection of a benevolent public persona— it’s certainly a sordid affair. He’s the type of villain Kawanabe made himself out to be; the type of villain Madarame was.

As sympathetic as Yusuke is to the track team, his priorities lie with Ryuji. Information has been delivered, so his role should be complete. However, Ryuji has a habit of making things unconscionably difficult— in part due to the people he associates with.

“No. No way,” Takeishi says, once the recording ends. “This has to be a joke.”

“It’s Yamauchi’s voice, ain’t it? And on top of that, shit’s gone down just like he said.” Ryuji lets out a sigh. “Listen, I know I’m the last guy you want to hear this from, so... if you gotta hit me or something, go ahead. I’m ready.”

Takeishi, to his credit, looks conflicted at Ryuji’s utterly asinine declaration. He must still be processing the manipulation he’s been subjected to. Nakaoka, on the other hand, seems far more volatile; his reaction has been simmering resentment despite all the evidence produced in his favor  _ specifically _ to prove his innocence. There is no gratitude in his expression. He moves towards Ryuji—

Yusuke steps forward and punches him.

“What the fuck!?” Takeishi yells, catching Nakaoka as he stumbles backwards. 

“Yusuke!?”

“It’s all right,” Yusuke says, shaking out his wrist. “I used my non-dominant hand. My artistic productivity won’t be be hindered by this exertion.”

“That’s not the problem here!” Ryuji yells.

“You bastard!” Nakaoka regains his footing and lunges towards Yusuke. Before he can land a hit, Ryuji intervenes, shoving himself between the two of them.

“Leave him alone! This is between you and me!”

“Tell that to your Kosei dude!”

“I refuse to stand idle as you enact a misdirected assault on the one person attempting to prevent imminent catastrophe.” Yusuke offers a mirthless grin. “If violence is your language of choice, shall we converse?”

“I was just sayin’ that shit!” Ryuji protests. “They weren’t actually gonna—”

“Fuck you, Sakamoto!” Nakaoka immediately proves him wrong by throwing a wild swing in Ryuji’s direction, one which Ryuji blocks on instinct. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this!? You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong! I’m sick of it!”

“I’m tryin’ to  _ help— _ “

“Leave it alone! Leave  _ me _ alone!”

“And you?” Yusuke asks, staring Takeishi down. “What will you do?”

Takeishi remains frozen for a moment. Then, he clenches his fists, coming to some resolution. “Don’t mess with the track team!” he shouts, joining the fray by tackling Yusuke.

“Seriously!? What the hell, Yusuke!” As reluctant as Ryuji is to defend himself, he’s obviously unwilling to leave Yusuke at the mercy of his assailants. So, with a wordless shout, he punches back.

It’s a bitter, senseless brawl. While the other two lack the experience hard-won from after school Mementos excursions, they can hold their own in a fight. Their athleticism certainly aids their efforts; conditioning from track has obviously left its mark.

Miraculously, nobody intervenes. It could be the seclusion they’re afforded, or it could be that no bystander is willing to get involved with this conflict. In any case, it leaves them free to continue until exhaustion overtakes them; willpower alone cannot sustain a fight, after all.

“Fuck,” Nakaoka pants, leaning heavily against a wall. “You’re a nasty piece of work, Sakamoto.” Despite the acerbic words, it’s somehow delivered without much malice.

Ryuji lets out a huff. “Yeah, well, you should’ve thought about that before goin’ after my Kosei dude.”

“He started it!”

“On the contrary,” Yusuke says, “this conflict existed long before my involvement. I merely threw the first punch.”

“Hey, you don’t—“ Ryuji starts, some attempt at protest. It’s one he quickly abandons. “Actually, he’s got us there.”

“Now,” Yusuke continues, “are we all ready for a civil conversation?”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Takeishi mutters. “Is this guy for real?”

“Yeah,” Ryuji says with no lack of resignation, “that’s just how he is.”

“Oh, sure, ‘just how he is,’” Nakaoka repeats bitterly, though it’s too directionless to be an effectively biting comeback. He pounds a fist against the wall. “This sucks. This fuckin’ sucks.”

Ryuji reaches a hand out, but stops himself short. He rubs the back of his neck instead. “Look. I know you guys got a lot of shit because of me. I messed up. I’m sorry.”

“You should’ve left us alone.” 

“No way,” Ryuji protests. “That guy would’ve pulled the exact same shit Kamoshida did.”

“And we would’ve deserved it,” Nakaoka spits.

“ _ No one _ deserves that!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Nakaoka turns and hauls Ryuji up by the collar of his shirt, but there’s no threat to the act, only some shade of desperation. “The only reason I had it so easy was because you were there!”

“The hell’re you talkin’ about? No one had it easy!” Ryuji retorts, clearly frustrated by this line of conversation. “Besides, you guys were tryin’ to hold on, and I—“

“You don’t understand! You took the worst of it, and we just  _ let _ you! And you’re still looking out for us! Haven’t you learned your lesson!? You were the only one who— fuck!” Nakaoka yells, cutting himself off. Belligerent tears threaten to fall, and he ducks his head. “I did nothing! I’m still doing nothing! Am I really that weak!? Is this how it’s gonna be for the rest of my life!?”

“Nakaoka...” Takeishi puts his hand over Nakaoka’s; he removes Nakaoka’s grip from Ryuji without much resistance. “Sorry. It’s my fault. If I wasn’t stupid enough to buy into Yamaushi’s bullshit, this wouldn’t have happened. He said he’d make me captain, and that just…“ he trails off. He shakes his head. “I’m not like you guys. I don’t have any talent for this. I ran so damn hard, but you two were always so far ahead, and I wanted… I  _ needed _ something to be proud of.”

“So you were willing to betray your teammate,” Yusuke says. Takeishi flinches.

“Look,” Ryuji cuts in. “When it comes to guys like Kamoshida— guys like Yamaushi— they’ll do whatever they can to get what they want. Doesn’t matter how low they gotta stoop. And when they got you trapped, you can spend your whole life walking on eggshells, but they’ll take any excuse to give you a black eye and make it your fault—“ Ryuji shifts his gaze uncomfortably to the side. “What I’m saying is, these guys had it out for you from the start.”

“Then we were stupid for trying to put up with it,” Nakaoka shoots back. He scrubs at his face, a futile attempt to dam the growing well of tears. “We should’ve— I should’ve—“

“How you handled abuse doesn’t justify the abuse you suffered.” Yusuke pulls out a handkerchief, giving it to Nakaoka. It’s not one he’s particularly attached to, so it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t get it back. “As for your own actions, there are certainly some things you can take responsibility for, but there’s nothing you can do to change the past. All you can do is learn from it.”

Nakaoka snorts contemptuously into his newly-obtained handkerchief. “Shit man, that’s deep.” 

Takeishi, in contrast, seems to take the words to heart. He laughs, though there’s a strain of exhaustion to it. “I hate how helpful this was. Damnit Sakamoto, when did you grow up. What happened to the team dumbass.”

“Shut up,” Ryuji says, and Takeishi laughs even harder.

It takes a while, but he manages to catch his breath. “I think I can finally start moving on from this,” Takeishi says. “We’ll take care of it, Sakamoto. We’ll bring back the track team on our own terms. Right?” he asks, glancing towards Nakaoka.

“Yeah,” Nakaoka says. Then, after a moment, he turns to face Ryuji. “All that stuff you said about us goes for you, too. Stop blaming yourself for Kamoshida. Sorry. And... thanks.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji says, looking somewhat dazed. “Same here.”

They leave. It’s a rather unceremonious end for such a fraught conflict, but what’s important is that it’s an end.

Ryuji lets out a breath, one heavy with the weight of closure. He looks at a loss. “You were supposed to keep me out of trouble,” he says, eventually.

“I did.”

“You totally did  _ not _ . How’s startin’ a fight supposed to keep me out of trouble?” 

“I refuse to enable your martyr complex,” Yusuke retorts. “If you won’t fight for yourself, I’ll give you something to fight for.”

There’s nothing Ryuji says to that. Instead, he glances at Yusuke, and winces. An over-dramatic reaction; unlike Ryuji, Yusuke had the good sense to focus on blocking the blows.

Ryuji reaches out a tentative hand towards Yusuke’s cheek, grazing against what must be a spectacular bruise. Yusuke doesn’t flinch.

“You look awful,” Ryuji says.

“I assure you, the view from here can’t be much of an improvement.”

That, at least, gets a quiet chuckle from Ryuji. “Thanks for havin’ my back. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Wonderful,” Yusuke says. “Dinner would be acceptable. I’m in the mood for abura-age.”

“You kiddin’ me? No one’s gonna let us in lookin’ like this. And wait, wasn’t it supposed to be your treat?”

“Consider it penance.”

“Asshole.” It comes out much too fond for the insult it pretends to be, especially since Ryuji follows it by dropping his head onto Yusuke’s shoulder. 

“Are you all right?” Yusuke asks. He didn’t notice any debilitating injuries, but it’s possible one landed while he was distracted. A concussion? If Ryuji’s feeling dizzy—

“Yeah,” Ryuji says, interrupting Yusuke’s train of thought. “I’m fine. Can we just… stay like this? Just for a while?”

Yusuke reaches up, pulling Ryuji close. “You have all the time you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple end notes:
> 
> -wrote this fic bc I got struck by the thought ‘oh I want Yusuke to punch someone out for Ryuji’s sake’  
> -I was so torn whether to go ryuji pov or yusuke pov. could you imagine how funny this would be from ryuji’s pov. he’s tryin to keep everyone calm, suddenly yusuke decks a dude.   
> -I took 230 screencaps of ryuji’s s.link as reference for this fic  
> -[here’s](http://obstinaterixatrix.tumblr.com/post/172893411524/) my thought process for the adjustments I made. I think Yusuke could relate to Nakaoka as someone who pushed away help when it was offered, even tho it stems from a different place.   
> -I'm kind of craving abura-age now


End file.
